


Blue

by WritingForTheRevolution



Series: Shades of You [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Colors, F/F, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Infidelity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 12:08:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11805699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingForTheRevolution/pseuds/WritingForTheRevolution
Summary: Water, sky, sadness, calm.Everything is blue.





	Blue

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read the first part of this series, I suggest that you do. It doesn't really make any difference, but what happens here kind of builds off Red.

Blue.

It was the color of the sky on any given day, clear or filled with puffy clouds. It was the color of the waves as they lapped against the shore and washed away her footprints as she walked through the hot sand, and it was the color of the best properties in Monopoly that Angelica somehow always ended up with. It was the color of the clear notes that resounded through the room as she pressed the piano keys, and it was the color of a lot of people’s eyes.

It was Eliza’s color.

It was the one she chose whenever she got something to match her sisters’ outfits, the one she wore when she needed to boost her confidence. It was the sweetness she exuded towards everyone, and it was the gentle protectiveness she held for her sisters. It was the color of her very soul.

It was the color of the voice on the phone the week after exams had ended, and it was the color of the haphazard plans that were made to go visit their mother. It was the color of the blankets that covered the twins at the hospital, the color of the tension that filled the air as they waited for any small piece of news. It was the color of the hours that slowly ticked by on the clock, of the hallway when the doctor came out and shook his head, and of her father when he collapsed into a chair, his face buried in his hands.

It was the color that loomed over their entire house, dark and depressing, even weeks after the funeral. It was the shade of paint in the nursery where the twins slept, devoid of the color that would have accompanied her mother’s singing, that served as a constant reminder of what they had lost. It was the constant presence of sympathy in everyone’s eyes, and it was the color of the offered condolences that did nothing to numb the pain.

It was the color that began to appear under Angelica’s eyes as she threw herself back into her work and studies to distract herself from her emotions. It was the hardness that appeared when Eliza worried over her, the coldness with which she avoided the questions, and the color of the broken sobs that came from her room when she thought Eliza was asleep.

It was the color of the dress she wore to the party, the color of the dim lighting that reflected off the face of a boy who stood against the wall next to Aaron Burr. It was the color of the words she whispered to Angelica in the hopes that she hadn’t already set her eyes on the dark-haired boy, and it was the helplessness that filled her whole being as her sister strode over to talk to him. It was the feeling of surprise when they both turned to face her before they walked back, Angelica on the boy’s arm.

It was the sudden shyness that washed over her after they were introduced, when her heart had stopped trying to escape her chest. It was the color of his name, _Alexander,_ smooth and powerful. It was the awkwardness that accompanied their first few meetings, the color of her pulse as it raced while she talked, and it was the peace she brought him after they started dating, the perfect complement to his fiery passion.

But it was also the sadness and longing in John’s gaze whenever she caught him staring at Alex, the quiet desperation she observed when he thought she couldn’t see. It was the color of the drawings she watched him create, the ink in the careful pen strokes as Alex’s likeness appeared on the page.

It was the color of the freedom she felt after she broke up with Alex, and it was the feeling of lightness she experienced when she knew that he supported her. It was the color of the sadness that washed over her when she realized their relationship was over, but it was the color of their friendship after that night, simple and relaxed and free of any pressure to be someone she wasn’t.

When she finally got the courage to tell her sisters, it was the overwhelming support they showed her, the cool protectiveness when Angelica inquired as to Alexander’s reaction. And it was the flash of something that looked like hope in her sister’s eyes before it disappeared and Eliza was left wondering if it had been there at all.

It was the color in Eliza’s smile when she saw Alex and John together, the color of the radiant glow that surrounded the two of them. It was the color that defined their relationship: intense and impassioned and perfect.

But it was also the color that appeared when something went wrong.

So when Herc and John and Alex didn’t show up to their next squad movie night, it was the color of the unspoken confusion that hung in the air, the color of the repeated questions and of the glances they all kept shooting towards the door. It was the color of the numerous text bubbles that her friends sent in the group chat, the color of the tiny light that flashed on her screen when she got another message notification that went unanswered by the three absent from the room.

And after she got a response from Herc later that night, four simple words, it was the the incredulity that clouded her mind before the phone fell from her grip, the color of the silent, anguished tears she shed while it lay forgotten beside her as the color glowed dimly from the screen.

_Alex cheated on John._

It was the spike that drove itself through her heart after she saw the scars on John’s wrists, the color that threatened to spill from her eyes and the pity she felt but knew he wouldn’t want. It appeared in the stiff smile that spread across his lips and the pain she knew he hid behind it, only letting the heartache show, painfully present, when he thought no one could see. When he thought he could hide the color as it dripped down his face.

It was the color of the quaint coffee shop she worked at, peaceful and soothing and quiet, and it was the light dusting of eyeshadow on a stunningly beautiful girl who approached the counter one afternoon. It was the unexplainable tug in her chest when a man, presumably the girl's boyfriend, walked in and put an arm around her waist, and the spark of something that flashed in her eyes before he led her outside.

It was the color of the daydreams that filled her head as her thoughts inevitably wandered back to the mysterious girl, and the color of the teasing words she received from Peggy when her sister shook her from her reverie. When she finally saw the girl again, it was the color of the raindrops that splattered the windows of the nearly empty shop, the smooth tone of her voice when she ordered, and the electricity that sparked when their fingers touched.

It was the color of the tranquility she felt with Maria, the color of the conversation that flowed easily between them like water. But when the other girl shifted away from her touch, it was the fleeting confusion she felt before she brushed it off as nothing.

And weeks later, it was the color of the fading, finger-shaped bruises that marred the girl’s wrists when her sleeves slipped down to expose the skin.

It was the fear in Maria’s eyes as she stuttered out the words, slowly revealing what her previous boyfriend would force her to do, and it was the silent tears that filled Eliza’s eyes as she embraced the curly-haired girl.

A few days later, it was the color of the polish on her nails when she squeezed Maria’s hand as they sat across from Aaron Burr and drew up papers for a restraining order.

And when she realized that Maria trusted her, it was the color that crashed over her in waves, and it was the color of the promises she made to herself to always protect the beautiful girl she was lucky enough to hold and kiss every day.

It was the color of the happiness that bubbled in her heart and shone in her eyes when she finally introduced Maria, _her girlfriend_ , to her friends at their next movie night, the color of the welcoming smiles that came from all sides and of a questionable sum of money that was exchanged between her sisters.

And when Maria froze beside her, wide eyes locked on something across the room, it was the shocked recognition she saw in John’s when she focused on his face, the color of the pain that spread across his features before he quickly brushed past her and out of the room. It was the sudden realization that swept over Eliza when she put the pieces together in the silence after John walked out, and it was the guilt pooled in Maria's eyes when Eliza turned to face her.

It was the color of the expletives Herc breathed out under his breath before he rushed after John, the color of the choked apology that came from Maria before she, too, fled, and the color of the puzzled glances that were shared between the remaining people in the room.

It was the color of the breath she took when she realized that _John hadn’t told them,_ the color of the apology she whispered to the empty air before she started to tell as little of the story as possible.

It was the color of the various emotions written across her friends’ faces as she told them the shortest version of what had happened, the shade of the icy flames that burned in the eyes of her sister and the numerous expressions of anger and disbelief that flickered around the room.

It was the shade of the paint on her walls when she locked herself away with her thoughts, the tightness in her chest that came with the color of every memory she reflected on, the color of every piece in the puzzle she was trying to put together in some semblance of order. It was the color of the shadows that came from the corners of her mind and the color that swam in her vision as she pictured Maria and Alex and John.

Since Maria had avoided all her texts and calls, it was the color set in her jaw as she made her decision, the color of the sweater she pulled over her head, and the color of the confidence that flooded her stomach before she stood in front of a door painted with the color. It was the guarded look in the other girl’s eyes when she opened the door and the quiver in her voice when she invited Eliza inside.

It was the tint to the words that were exchanged, the tears that were shed, and the feeling of the world lifting its weight from her shoulders when they curled up together and all she could see was that color.

It was the color that shaped the foundation as they slowly rebuilt their lives despite everything that had happened. It was the color that became something larger; a reference point, a constant in the confusion and chaos of everyday life. It was the color that was always present somewhere, somehow, and faded into the background until it was needed.

It’s the color that carries the shock in the room when John introduces them to his daughter, the color that peeks through in his gentle smiles, careful hands, and soft eyes.

It’s also the quick surge of distrust that her friends express after John tells them that he and Alex are trying again, the barrage of questions that threatens to drown him while he tries to come up with reasons that are good enough to satisfy everything he’s confronted with, the overwhelmed look in his eyes while he attempts to rationalize his own decision.

It’s the tiredness in John’s posture when he asks to talk to her a few days later. It’s the way his eyes flicker down to the table when he quietly asks if he should even try again with Alex, and it’s the tears she can see welling in his eyes as he swallows back a sob in the middle of the sentence.

It’s the color of all the thoughts that flash across her mind, the color of every memory she has of Alex and John, and the color that surrounds the helpless boy in front of her who has been hurt in too many ways to count. It’s the color of the bubble around them when she takes his hands in hers and tells him that, in the end, it’s his choice.

And it’s the color of the forgiveness she knows she’s held for a long time.

So when she’s standing outside the building where Alex works, it’s the color that reflects off the windows as she scans the passing faces, and it’s the color in Alex’s wide eyes when he catches sight of her. It’s the color of the emotionless mask he puts on before she starts to speak, and it’s the way he melts when she tells him she forgives him. It’s the color of the warning she gives him, the color of the words that are meant to protect a freckled boy who she watched suffer so much, and the color she knows he sees as she watches him realize he’s lucky to have a second chance.

It’s the color of the velvet, deep and textured, in the shop she walks into with Alex. It’s the slight trepidation in his gaze as his eyes flash over everything, and it’s the advice she whispers in his ear as she tells him to pick something simple.

And it’s the color of the small box he tucks in his pocket when they walk out, the one that holds only a slim band of metal and a promise. A promise that will last.

It’s the feeling of her heart beating in her chest as she and Maria walk past the storefront, and it’s the giddiness that fills her as she imagines herself walking inside to buy something of the color to give to the girl who is standing at her side. The girl she will always want by her side.

_Forever._

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry that this took so long. I didn't have as much of this planned out like I did for Red, and I got kind of lazy.
> 
> Again, a huge thanks lavendrr_sky for proofreading this... There would be so many grammar mistakes and wording awkwardness otherwise. <3


End file.
